


By The Power Of The Moon

by Jupiterra



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred is horny, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drag Queens, Dragons, Everyone Is Gay, Explosions, Germania is EPIC, I haven't watched it since forever, M/M, Memory Loss, Necromancy, Not sailor moon accurate, Rainbows, Sailor Moon Cross Over, Space Magic, Super Soldiers, Time Travel, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiterra/pseuds/Jupiterra
Summary: Ivan is pulled into the world of magical girls after a monster attack on his college campus. Can he save the universe and still pass all his classes? Can a grown man really handle magic?
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia), Canada/Prussia (Hetalia)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 67





	1. New Moon

Ivan's life turned upside down after he started college. It wasn't the classes, or his new cheap apartment. It was fighting intergalactic bug monsters at the crack of dawn in thigh highs that really messed with him. There was some explanation required after all.

Two weeks after college courses started, Ivan was leaving campus. He heard a scream, running over to help. There was a bug thing in the dim of sunset, with almost no one around. It had razor teeth, about to rip a young woman to shreds. Ivan didn't think in that moment, he just did. He throw a rock to distract the murderous thing, yelling loudly. The rest came in a blur of change.

Seeing a talking cat. Grabbing a bizarre purple moon wand. Transforming in a twirl of ribbons, glitter, and music. Decapitating a space monster with a silver and lilac scythe... It was all an otherworldly flash of events. Ivan could scarcely believe it as he was sprinting to class the next day.

This was Ivan's life now. Between being a “magical girl” and a full time student, Ivan didn't know what to think. He wasn't alone as a soldier of the stars either. There was Francis, a 19 year old barista with a heart of gold. Angelique was Francis's cousin and smart as a whip. They both had beautiful blonde hair, fabulous and shining.

Ivan was just... Ivan. He had started college later in his twenties, forever a mess. He was hanging out with two idiots in a cafe, listening to a talking cat that gave him magic powers. What was his life turning into?

“... Ivan, are you listening? This is critical magical girl training.” The cat nagged him, smacking a leg with a white kitty paw.

“Artemis, I met you two days ago. I'm a grown man, not an idealistic 12 year old girl.” Ivan reasoned with the magic cat, wondering how insane he may appear.

The white cat fluffed up in frustration, looking away. “While children are far more loving and ideal for magic, there have been... problems before.”

“Fatalities, you mean.” Ivan dismissed darkly.

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by Angelique. She gave a movie worthy smile, smart looking in her glasses. “I've been a magical girl since I was ten, and I'm fine. I have a career out of it. I'm a movie star. What else could a magical girl need?”

Ivan looked his new co-worker in the eye. “Not dying to space monsters.”

“I don't like this sailor moon. He is such a bummer.” Francis groaned, rolling his darling eyes.

“Says hot topic here. He's not even a little girl, or twelve.” Ivan argued for the fourth time today.

“I was chosen to be sailor Venus when I was twelve, and I identify as genderfluid. You are rude.”

Ivan sighed. “Drama.”

Angelique stood with flair, fixing a hair that fell out of place. “Darlings, identity is important. So is friendship and magic and manicures.”

“Sailor Mercury is right. Tonight will all about building team work and teaching Sailor Moon who he was meant to be!” The cat cheered. Francis and Angelique whooped in unified victory. Francis held up a hand to Ivan. He glares.

“Don't leave him hanging.” Angelique sighed.

Ivan grumbled, slapping that open gesture lightly in a high five. “Yay. Teamwork.”

“Good, let's enter the crystal realm to train.” Artemis the cat announced, jumping to the floor. The adorable creature was immensely powerful in his own right, but clearly unable to harm any living creature. All the same, Artemis had made himself invisible to those not pure of heart.

“Training!” Francis squealed enthusiastically. He took out his wand, a pink thing topped by a gold heart. The engraved Venus symbol glowed pink as Francis used his innate power.

“Venus love power! Gate of Love!” With much musical drama, a heart shaped gate in reality bloomed. A surreal vapor wave haven lay beyond this gate, glittering like a 1980's music video. The other magical people went in the gate, then looked back to a shocked Ivan.

Artemis meowed from afar. “Are you coming?”

“Is... Is this safe?” Ivan asked cautiously, daring to near the pink portal.

Angelique groaned, then took out her own wand. It was yellow with pale gold, shimmering with buttery warm magic. “Mercury friendship power! Links of friendship!” Golden chains poured forth, resembling little hearts. They wrapped around Ivan, dragging him into the alternate world. He shrieked and kicked, the time locked cafe vanishing as the portal closed. Ivan silenced and sulked, sitting on the technicolor alien ground.

“I was gonna come eventually.” The ash blonde grumbled.

“Like, totally.” Francis droned, sucking on his lollipop. “Let's transform already! I want to practice combo attacks.”

Angelique laughed richly, transforming in a shower of golden light. Her designer form shimmered to a long sweeping dress. Her sophisticated look was complete with white roses, gold satin, and a graceful pet collar of golden hearts. “By the power of Mercury, I will punish evil!”

Francis was somehow more ridiculous. His transformation was tufted white pink and red designs, ending in pink thigh high boots with an adorable cropped princess dress. “By the power of Venus, I will punish evil!”

The crew looked to Ivan, his grip on his moon wand uneasy. The swirling purple details were exquisite, complimented by silver. “I won't do it.”

“If it's performance anxiety... Only the pure of heart are going to see the transformation. Its like barely three seconds in real time.” Francis soothed, jingling from his bow-tie littered skirt as he walked.

“That's not it.” Ivan whispered. He took a breath, looking to the new insane people he felt linked to. This celestial neon place seemed to do that. “I was shoved into a mini dress out there. A goddamn mini dress. It was humiliating. I'm a man, not a girl.”

Angelique averted her gaze solemnly. “That was... what the last sailor moon wore.”

Ivan stood, curious. “How many sailor moons were before me?” The only sound was otherworldly bird calls in the distance like wind chimes.

Finally Francis spoke. “Three, since I was recruited. They weren't strong enough to... They...”

Artemis filled in the gaps seriously. “The fate of the future rests on Sailor Moon's shoulders. Only a few in my lifetime have been able to carry that fate. It takes a certain type of soul to do what you did. Girl or not, you are a natural sailor scout.”

This was a lot to take in. Ivan twirled the wand in his hands. It was a light and easy motion, it felt _right_. Slaying that razor bug thing had been like breathing, his moon scythe in silver trailing arc. He wasn't crazy... probably.

“If I am going to bear the weight of the future... I suppose I should change.” Ivan conceded defeat shyly, looking up. “How do I do the sparkle thing?”

Artemis purred in approval as the sailor scouts rushed for a group hug. Ivan tolerated the gesture, still wary of his role here.

“You have to focus on what make your heart full of joy! I think of my family, protecting them. Shopping with Franny...” Sailor Mercury mused, twirling curl of her model hair.

“I think of all the people that need love and acceptance.” Francis volunteered, clasping gloved hands.

Ivan frowned. These ideals were certainly pleasant, but they did nothing for him. The only thing he ever wanted was to see his baby sister again. This was an impossibility, given that she died of cancer four years ago. “The only thing I want is gone. How can I transform at all?” he mourned openly.

“The memory of those we love is alive in the heart forever.” Artemis assured, inhumanly wise. These words rang true, perhaps more so because of the magic that thrummed in this mystic sanctuary.

Encouraged, Ivan stood. “Okay. I'll try.” He moved without thinking, swinging his moon wand in crescent moon pattern. Iridescent silver brightness swirled as tall black boots formed. Puffy sheer silver fabric framed strong arms, binding to purple wrist and hand wraps. The bulk of the shirt was whites and softness, cinched with a purple waist scarf. A lengthy neck scarf matched, tying in lilac pants that tucked into the tall boots. Ivan could feel beautiful feathers and silver baubles about him, jingling faintly. Magic words formed as his wand became a lengthy silver scythe with purple ribbons.

“By the power of the moon, I will punish evil!” This sealed the dance of life, finishing the transformation. Ivan blushed faintly, unwilling to admit he felt fabulous. With his fit chest showcased in tight white, he had to admit he was very flamboyant.

The others clapped from a safe distance. “You looked so pretty!” Francis echoed Angelique's praise. 

“Magical boy changes are so different!” Angelique added, “But its very cute.”

Ivan felt nearly naked on his upper body, his shirt clinched together by a purple jeweled heart. He could feel his own silver pet collar, mostly black fabric with heart centre piece. His life was insane, and he wanted this over with so he could get his studies done.

“Let's train already!” He snapped. Everyone cheered obnoxiously.


	2. Light My Fire

Alfred paced the black citadel, heart of the Umbra Empire. Queen Diamond was being a total bitch, and he couldn't stand it. Wasn't the death of Sailor Mars, Jupiter, and Moon enough? Sailor Mars and Jupiter had been young adults in an war spanning time and the crystal realm. Sailor Moon though...

That girl's death was a tragedy.

Bothered by the recent massacre, the dark knight of Umbra felt distantly icky inside. It was like worms of feelings wriggling under his dark skin. He was one of a kind, he was more than Alfred Jones. He was Hellfire, one of the fiercest fighters in this renegade kingdom. Candy would make him feel better.

Mission in mind, Alfred began his power walk up a bazillion stairs. When you were a goon in a vertically spiralling black castle, you got your cardio in. Maybe Queen Diamond could let _other people_ use the elevator. After ten long minutes of stairs, Alfred found the royal kitchen. 

Kiku was making a sandwich in the stark silver and black kitchen. Matthew wasn't far, half lost in the fridge. Alfred announced his arrival with a whine. Summoning a dull knife with dark magic, Kiku spread Durnberry jam on his toast. “Hello Hellfire.”

“Keeks. Keeks I need candy. I feel sad.” Alfred groaned, draping himself over the counter.

“You'll get a stomach ache again.” The raven haired warrior warned coolly, deadly despite his shorter stature.

“I won't I promise.”

“If you get a stomach ache it's not my fault.” Kiku sighed. He gestured lazily with telekinesis. Several summoned magic knives pointed to Matthew. The fit male was munching on the last of the chocolate syrup.

Alfred cried out in alarm, tackling his team mate. “That's mine you monster!” They were nearly brothers, only divided by food. Of course, Matthew was the opposite in look. He was maybe slightly taller with pale skin and blonde locks. Al was more wiry, skin of chocolate with tight black curls. The kingdom of Umbra didn't judge it's citizens if they proved their bravery in combat. The only country dumb enough to denounce them was the Moon Republic. This spiralled into a century long war.

No one had memories of peace in the land of crystal. One side would win, the other would die. There could be no other destiny now. Queen Diamond was certain killing the elite sailor scouts months ago would be the final blow.

In Alfred's loud unpopular opinion, The queen was wrong. Alfred had survived the deaths of five sailor scouts, and twelve dark warriors. Both sides kept recruiting fresh blood, typically children pure enough for magic. Umbra Forces had the advantage of being able to recruit adults as well. Enough hate could equate dissonance needed to wield dark magic.

“Give me the chocolate stuff!” Alfred screeched as he and Matthew wrestled. The chocolate sauce was put away by Kiku in the background, uncaring about the slap fight.

“You drank the last one! It's mine.” Matthew defended his actions.

“Drinking ice cream toppings is not healthy.” Kiku advised softly from the sides.

Both adoptive sibling fought childishly, not intending harm. A message sounded over the whole castle with magic. “Elite Knights of the apocalypse, gather before the queen in one hour.”

“Why one hour?” Alfred asked open air.

Matthew paused fighting, blushing faintly. “N-no reason.”

“Gross.” Kiku rejected the conversation, leaving the kitchen. It was a well known fact that Matthew was madly in love with Queen Diamond. It was rumoured to be mutual, and Alfred didn't want to confirm things.

“Eww, ok? Eww. This chocolate is mine now.” Alfred climbed off Matthew, hands up in disgust. He grabbed the chocolate sauce and left.

One hour and two more stair sets later, Alfred appeared five minutes early outside the royal war room. There Kiku and Matthew were, alongside a few necromancer goons. Where had their sheer numbers gone? Wasn't the Umbra Elite supposed to be noble and strong, the black curtains of justice?

“Dark force activate! War Crime!” Kiku called out, transforming into black body suit. Blades formed around him, from him, a crown of death. Silver dripped like blood down his elegant form, outlining his limbs in detail.

Matthew madly scrambled to pull on his black hoodie and brass knuckles. The front of the sweater had a skull on it. “Destruction ready!” He called out, not having a speck of magic in his body. He mostly kicked guys in the balls. He would punch anyone in the face, especially a magic girl.

Alfred grasped his own dark pendant, the royal insignia carved in obsidian. “Dark force activate! Hell Fire!” He summoned the wrath of passionate anger in red fire, twining magic from his hands. He called forth leather jacket, jeans, and sweet shades. Flame designs were on the jacket and jeans.

After getting checking his hair in the reflection of Kiku's blades, Matthew gave a thumbs up. The trio entered the war room. Queen Diamond was here, before a series of magic mirrors. The prolific drag queen's voice was madness inducing to some, and Alfred winced. Kiku was smart, putting in ear plugs from the earth realm. Matthew looked on lovingly. Perhaps it was not love at all, but insanity.

Matthew bowed the deepest of the lot in greeting. “My fairest queen.” He purred.

Queen Diamond blushed, his albino complexion not far from his white blonde locks. “My greatest warriors. We struck a most awesome blow to the sailor loser forces three moons ago. They were down three sailor scout ass holes, and Artemis is still weakened from my duel. Unfortunately...”

Alfred waited to hear the inevitable. If they had to murder a child, he was done. Alfred didn't turn to dark forces to kill kids in parking lots.

Queen Diamond really liked milking his dramatic pauses. He clicked his fingers, the new sailor moon appearing in all five full length magic mirrors. “They appear to be recruiting adults now.”

“Is that a grown man? Can men learn magical girl arts?” Kiku protested, shocked. Dark Force and Magical Transformation both took years to master, or so everyone believed.

Alfred had nothing constructive to say. He mostly ogled the footage. This new sailor moon was built like a freight train, chopping necromancy spies to pieces. It was how all the up close footage ended, harvested by the blade of a massive scythe.

“He um... isn't wearing much.” Alfred commented thickly, eyes following the silk and sheer bound enemy.

“It's not exactly fair. He looks bulkier than me.” Matthew agreed with Kiku, giving Alfred a side glance. Alfred looked at the floor, twiddling his thumbs.

“This new scout has to be killed. He is ripping anything we throw at him to shreds. This is your sole mission, awesome?” Queen Diamond ordered, striding closer in his white thigh highs and feather boa.

“Most awesome, your shining grace.” Matthew agreed heartily, eyes drinking in his queen as white and black dress train dragged by. Queen Diamond paused, affectionately ruffling the hair of his favourite knight.

After a bright grin, he flicked his fingers at the rest of the lot dismissively. “Off you go.” The knights left along with the summoning necromancers, everyone headed down the many stairs in a stretched out pack.

There was a procedure that usually rolled out during these events. Alfred and Matthew would get excited about blowing stuff up and hitting things. Kiku would chime in with some deadpan wisdom and a wry smile. They usually lost, but typically got away with some new information. A few sailor scouts had been killed in this matter, mostly by War Crime. Kiku had the most power and least amount of empathy for enemies.

Alfred numbly followed, quiet. He was distracted by what could only be called booty cam. It was one thing for girls to be prancing around in ribbons and sheer. Grown men built like trucks dressing in revealing shimmer was another issue.

The issue was that Alfred was proudly gay, and this sailor moon was his type. He could keep his cool as be ready for battle. He had to be! He was Hell Fire, the second most powerful knight of –

Alfred promptly smashed into a wall, not looking where he was going. “Al! Are you even listening.” Kiku sharply hissed. “I was coming up with a plan.”

“I got a stomach ache from too much chocolate sauce.” Alfred lied quickly, blushing hotly under his dark complexion. He was starting to chub a little from thinking of Sailor Moon's back and ass, and further contemplation would have repercussions.

“I told you.” Kiku flicked him on the nose affectionately. “The new sailor moon is a different level of power. He cut up an undead golem like it was paper. I'm not keen on dying, so we should...”

Alfred tuned him out, recalling the battle footage. Sailor Moon's legs looked great. His ass was great. Alfred shivered and smiled in dopey fashion. Beating up this guy was going to be difficult but not impossible.

“Isn't that right Hell Fire?” Kiku prompted, looking over. Shit, Alfred hadn't heard a thing.

“Absolutely. Ready to go.” Alfred spouted in panic, hoping his jeans hid what was going on. He shifted his stance slightly as they all waited outside the castle for portals to past Earth. The wizards did their thing as Kiku finished up his speech. 

“Good. Sailor Moon's address is on the map I gave you. Scope out his place, look for weaknesses. Meet us at the starbucks in disguise. Got it?”

“Duh. Let's go already.” Alfred urged, keen to excuse himself.

The tear in time formed, familiar to the crew. Alfred waved goodbye to the jagged magic scarred kingdom of Umbra, and its familiar earthrise. Plumbing through colours without names, he emerged outside a campus in the past. Ah yes, the last known location of Sailor Moon.

The mortal identities of the remaining sailor scouts had been known for years, but their homes had top notch security. There was still hope this new member had his guard down. Hunching behind bushes, Alfred bit his lip in concentration. He really needed to get laid sometime. See one hot looking sailor scout and he's ready to party like a horny teen. He should be better than that!

Kneading his groin in need, Alfed groaned then forced a change of mind. He pulled out the stupid map, squinting to read. He forgot his glasses again, so Kiku's tiny writing would be difficult. Alfred was so damn distracted. Stupid scout with his cute butt. The guy was probably a total douche anyway.

Three blocks away. That wasn't so bad. Alfred calmed himself and headed out. He spotted handsome prey, a fellow flanked by the known sailor scouts. They appeared to be escorting this dashing man. It was certainly the new recruit, looking just fine in his jeans.

Trying to focus, he walked casually in a denim jacket. It wasn't his usual look, so it would throw off his target. That was the hope anyway. Everything was going fine, Alfred blending with crowds of students going home.

A few turns and the street emptied out. There was the crummy apartment building, bricks orange in the amber of a setting sun. The two known sailor scouts, and the target were gone. Shit. Alfred turned around, eye to eye with Sailor Venus. _Shit_.

The frilly pink foe ripped off his amulet, then waved a pink wand. “Venus love power! Gate of Love!”

“Hey! I need that!” Alfred protested. Another voice called out behind, haughty and confident. Alfred whipped around, seeing Sailor Mercury in golden regalia through a heart shaped gate.

“Mercury friendship power! Links of friendship!” Golden magic chains shot forth from her sceptre like wand, binding Alfred and tugging him forth.

“I'm an innocent civilian, You don't even –” Alfred was interrupted by a soft male voice like velvet.

“Shut up, Hell Fire.” Pulled into the magic gate, Alfred saw his fate. It was Sailor Moon, looking stunning as he spoke. It was like a great gay angel descended to earth, swaddled in silk. This almost made being knock unconscious worth it.

Alfred was punched out promptly, dropping into darkness.


	3. Sun Rise

There the sailor scouts were, loitering in the crystal realm. The villain Hell Fire was out for the count, bound with golden chains of Venus. Artemis winked into existence via his own portal, as cute as ever. Ivan gestured to the vast crystal castle structure behind them. There was hundreds of technicolor crystal structures around them on the surreal plain.

“Where are we?” Ivan asked, bewildered. Prior to this place, the crystal realm was rolling prismatic wilderness and craters of black.

Artemis became his true form, a prismatic white tiger with glowing eyes of time. “This is the remains of the moon republic, far in the future. The last homes were crystallized in memorial. I am one of the last time guardians of the moon republic. It is my duty to restore the timeline, before society collapsed.”

The other sailor scouts nodded seriously. Ivan looked around, realizing the weight of his role. “But... Can't we live on the earth instead?”

The tiger looked to the neon sparkling skies, the earthrise being three neat chunks of barren rock. “It has been some time since the earth hosted life. When everyone perished, I had to travel time and space for new recruits.”

Ivan whistled, impressed. “The human race really fucked up.”

Artemis chuckled. “I wouldn't be so harsh. You had a good run. It was ultimately the Umbra Kingdom that killed everyone. They discovered time magic, putting their hands on everything. I was forced to go back in time before they did, and begin the scouts.”

“Did it work?” Francis asked, tracing a painted finger nail along a crystallized wall.

“I still stand in the ruins of my masters.” Artemis replied dully. “Bring the prisoner to the dream chamber will you dears? We have to interrogate him.”

Ivan hefted the limp villain over a shoulder, following the crowd. They weaved past crystal houses, streets and empty fountains. A lonely whistling of wind echoed in the heart of the dead magical city. Entering a moon temple of sorts, Artemis moved with slinking movements. He shrunk down to his pet size, fluffy white fur and sass.

“We only have one chance to delve his mind with the psychic powers of the dream chamber. After that he will develop possible resistance.”

Francis immediately backed out of the deal. “He's a killer and super gross. No thanks.”

Angelique was just as haughty. “I'm not going to crawl around in an icky boy's brain.” She then glanced to Ivan. “No offence intended.”

Ivan looked on, sombre. Hell Fire was only slightly younger than him in black denim. The dark skinned youth was likely pulled into this conflict with Ivan. Worse, he had been likely stolen away as a child. There was no hate for this supposed killer, but sympathy. The decision was obvious.

“I'll do it. I'll interrogate his subconscious.” Ivan volunteered. He tightened the grip on his moon scythe, looking to the bound villain on the temple altar.

“Minds can be dangerous, you will be challenged.” Artemis warned.

Ivan rolled his eyes. “I've been fighting undead space bugs made of blades for three months. I can handle a slight amount of mind fuckery.” He gave the springy black hair of his prisoner a squeeze. It was softer than expected.

The process was simple enough. Hell Fire was strapped to a table, and Ivan would sit in a weird chair from the future. It was obviously advanced technology but Ivan was content to pass off this whole gig as magic. He was struggling in regular college so super technology was above his pay grade. More simply put, if this worked why question it.

The room could be heard powering up, The others dashing out. “Is this safe?” Ivan called out.

“Sure! Believe in you!” Francis chipped in, slamming the door behind them. Ugh, _Francis_. Ivan rolled his eyes, watching his own familiar magic glitter on the table. It was silver film on air, beginning to ravel around the captive villain.

“So does this start working whenever or –” Ivan was cut off as his mind was flung into darkness. It was painless jarring of glittering unknown. Ivan screamed, landing in ankle deep black slime. He was in a red lit cavern. Memories reflected in shattered panes of glass, floating in the muck. Childhood flashes stuck to the walls, emitting faint red light.

Being abandoned at the age of twelve in 1972. Living with loose and troubled groups. Being approached by young Princess Diamond, offered salvation in a future world. This was a world on the moon, when the earthrise was polluted and dying. It was still another chance a life and magic.

Ivan pulled himself away from these alluring visions. He had to traverse the caverns of man's mind and get the information Artemis wanted. It was difficult find anything in this gunky mess. Feeling unease from the substance, Ivan activated his sailor moon form.

“By the power of the moon, I will punish evil!”

Ivan's magic glimmered pale purple in this space. The oozing pollution of this young man's mind inched away from pretty boots and hair. Much better. Ivan smirked as he explored, eyeing several erotic memories. It seemed Hell Fire, or Alfred Freedom Jones, had a preference for tall built blondes. Cute. Unrelated to his current hunt, but flattering.

The red light grew stronger from a muted singular source. Ivan pursued it, eager to leave this place. “Hello?” He called out, reaching a final chamber of exquisite architecture. It was a peach coloured mall fantasy from the early 1980's, stained with black muck. Where there would be a grand water fountain, a red crystal heart floated. It glowed brightly despite being stained. Who could only guess the true brightness of the object when cleaned.

**Don't. You have no right.**

The room rumbled as Ivan approached. Tendrils of inky black pollution rose, attempting to drown Ivan. He burnt and sliced the offending filth away, taking several steps forward.

**Unleashing it will be catastrophic.**

“Moon spirit power! Purification of Spirit!” Ivan screamed in the rumbling din, purple white light making the blackness shriek. He breached the final distance, wrapping white gloved fingers around the dimmed heart. It was warm in his hands, trimmed in dirty gold. The filth began to burn away, a red apparition forming. It was child Alfred looking up, smiling. There was no chance for interaction as the hologram fell apart. The room was falling apart.

Ivan hissed in pain as the crystal heart glowed hotter, transitioning from red to yellow. He dropped it, cursing as he burned. The object crashed through the floor, the entire mall shattering to bricks and powder. The wreckage was suspended in deep space as the heart fell faster, hotter.

Ivan sheilded his eyes as the glow bloomed. He was blown away as the heart was now a miniature sun. Brighter, more burning. The light peirced Ivan's body, he could shadows of his own bones. It was too much as solar winds ripped away his satin costume. It melted his scythe. It destroyed him. Still he somehow watched on.

In the blinding rays of the sun, the mantle of celestial fire parted.

00000

Francis stood outside the dream chamber, checking his pink nails. “It's been twenty minutes. Do you think it's working?”

“Be patient. He's a new scout.” Angelique scolded with a perfect hair flip. She glanced to the familiar dream chamber, having used it before on Queen Diamond's lackeys. It usually produced mixed results.

“This is more of a test than anything. If Ivan's healing powers can mend the mind, we might be able to...” Artemis paused his explanation, white fur bristling. The ground rumbled, their very location the epicentre of a small moon quake. “RUN SCOUTS!”

Francis summoned a heart shaped portal in a hurry, everyone piling into it. They ended up far from the memorial city, standing upon a lunar hill flush with lime green plants. They looked back only in time to see something terrible.

It was an explosion of fire magic so large it mushroomed over the city. Everyone winced as a weak aftershock rippled the neon grass at their feet.

“What... What just happened?” Sailor mercury uttered, shocked.

“Oh no, did we lose another Sailor Moon? I just remembered his phone number!” Francis gasped.

“That's your concern right now!?” Angelique screeched.

The pink soldier of the stars stamped a heeled shoe. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to remember long numbers?”

“Girls, please. We have to see if Ivan is okay.” the cat warned, tail kinked in concern.

“Yeah.” Francis murmured darkly, clearly the pessimistic one. It didn't help that they witnessed the last massacre. “Okay... Venus love power! Gate of Love!”

With the glittering pink portal's dancing summon, the trio walked through carefully. The once silent city was blasted burning ruins. All of the crystal was shattered like an atomic bomb landed. The dream chamber itself was leveled.

“ _Shit_...” Angelique whispered, picking up part of her impractical dress skirt.

“They have to be dead.” Sailor Venus despaired.

Artemis hopped and skipped through the blacked memorials, shattered as it was in a broad radius. “We've lost the dream chamber, yet...” The cat trailed off, bounding to where their hostage once lay on a table. There was a red hot glow beneath ash covered body. Broken crystal crackled as ruins shifted, still on fire in places.

It was Ivan, his costume nearly burnt off. He shrugged out of the ruins, coughing fiercely. “I... I am okay, da.” The other scouts ran over in relief as he glowed with moon magic and restored his appearance.

“I'm like, so glad you can heal!” Francis squealed with joy, hugging Ivan tight.

“Same!” Angelique cheered.

Artemis was far more invested in the burnt husk of Hell Fire. Pouncing upon it in small cat size, The ashy shell fell apart. Hell fire was still beneath it, chest shifting slightly in breathe. His old villain clothes were incinerated, leaving nothing but smiley face boxers and a black undershirt.

“Girls, we've discovered so much more.” Artemis purred in wonder. In the hands of the dark skinned Hell Fire, a red and gold sailor scout wand was loosely clutched.


	4. Dark Clouds

“ **YOU LOST HELLFIRE!?** ” Queen Diamond screeched. Even his own royal reflections in the wall mirrors shied out of frame, scared. With a sharp clip of heels, the furious queen came closer.

“I'm sure we can recover him your majesty.” Kiku whispered, looking away when the albino queen glared. His make up framed eyes glowed red with sonic energy. He could kill them all with a vowel.

“ **I had to travel to 1972 to kidnap him from a very specific time line!** ”

Matthew looked up to speak, then shied away at his lover's rage. The queen paced madly, audacious given his heels and dragging dress train. “Sorry, my queen.” he mumbled.

Queen diamond sighed, sinking into his cushioned diamond throne. She gestured with claw like manicure to her servant Toris. The hyper intelligent space wolf brought her a glass of deep purple durnberry wine. Drinking generously, the leader rubbed a temple. “You don't understand what we've lost.”

“I don't. Please teach me my great queen.” Kiku sucked up hard, his bow scraping the floor. Flattery helped when the deadly monarch was like this.

“I suppose the great secret is no more. Sit.” At Queen Diamond's command, chairs were dragged forth by necromancy slaves. Immune to these sights, everyone was seated. “My few remaining subjects, my darlings. It is no surprise the Umbra kingdom is dying. There is a few hundred villagers left. Most of the moon is abandoned... I am no fool.”

“My majesty, your rule is great.” Matthew professed, ever so in love. Toris the wolf rolled his glowing eyes, tolerating the top of his head as a goblet holder.

“My rule is limited. I was so determined to save my peoples, I went back in time and took the very first to ever be born.” The queen oozed monologue, loving himself a bit more than most. “I was most awesomely clever! I took the very first magic compatible child ever born, to be reared by me. Our very first ancestor from three thousand years ago!”

Kiku blinked in confusion. “But. Alfred is... he's dark skinned with no pointed ears. He's shorter than any moon person.”

“I have to agree.” Matthew nodded, familiar with odd morphology. He was after all, pulled from the 2300's during the great eugenics wars. His beefy yet lithe build was standard production for that era.

“Yet the Umbra kingdom lives 200 years after it died in the original timeline. If we can re-capture Alfred and change time slightly, the Moon Republic might never exist at all. Only my people will remain.” Queen diamond boasted, so very cocky.

“Alfred... that's...” Matthew pondered the complex scheme. “That makes him the very first sailor scout, ever. There was nothing before him, no Sailor Moon, no Venus, no Saturn...”

“And with the right push there never would be... **If you had not lost him in 2013**!” The queen hissed, clearly angry.

The dark knights of Umbra looked to each other, struggling to grasp what they lost. There was always sailor scouts since time everlasting. There was always battle. What would the first sailor scout resemble if there was no planets to emulate in wands? Apparently Alfred, with his bizarre low cut 1970's fashion, and gay drama tendencies. The obnoxious former knight had a love of astronomy, always using the castle telescopes to see other planets...

Oh stars, they did lose the first sailor scout ever in time. Kiku was first to speak up. “With your permission, we can recover him.”

Queen Diamond swirled her durnberry wine in dark contemplation. “It's likely too late for that. Whatever time that pesky Artemis is hiding in this occasion, I'm sure he used his precious dream chamber.” He muttered darkly after a sip. “I should have ripped out his heart when I had the chance.”

Matthew swallowed, looking on to the centre of his world. “Perhaps we murder him.”

Kiku was shocked by the brutal suggestion, only to be more alarmed by the room's genial agreement. 

“Yes.” The queen hummed, smiling blood red lips. “Kill him, replace him with a more docile girl, drop her off in 1972. Complete the time paradox, magically making us the dominant empire. Perhaps a younger version of myself.”

“Of course, my queen.” Kiku purred, readying himself to leave and consider strategy. He was frozen by a ruby look, a silent command.

“After this last folly, I will personally manage your efforts.” The albino growled. Kiku paled.

“Who will stay behind as a time constant in this era?” Matthew asked bravely, moderately educated in time travel ethics.

Everyone knew the answer, Matthew blushing faintly. He had been recently promoted without cause, after a rather lengthy visit to the queen's bed chamber. Queen diamond smile sweetly, saying nothing. Kiku fumed silently, resentful of the sliding local politics.

_It only made his dark magic stronger._


	5. Dark Side Of The Moon

Ivan lay awake in his bed, conflicted as he hid from the world. Alfred joining the sailor scouts in the eternal war against evil rippled everything. Everything was different, and no one else seemed to realize this. The problem was that Ivan had plunged into the head of a time travelling former villain.

_Artemis wasn't telling his scouts everything._

Alina, Boris, and Viktor pounced on the bed. They were all black cats from a box Ivan once found. Some superstitious bastard had tried to kill the litter, believing it cast bad luck. Now the struggling college student had a small herd of furry brats.

Viktor and Boris sat on Ivan, meowing loudly. Alina, smaller and more dastardly, perched on the night stand and proceeded to knock things off. Ivan tried to ignore it, until his alarm clock clattered on the ground.

“Bad kitty.” Ivan scolded with little conviction, peeking violet eyes out from the covers

Alina had no regret in her smug face. Boris sat in front of Ivan's face to block all vision, then meowed. Viktor started biting Ivan's wiggling toes under the blanket, amusing himself. Ivan gave up his seclusion, glaring at the fuzzy companions keeping him captive.

“Okay. I'll feed you monsters.”

The cats trailed behind him in his Spongebob boxers. He dropped a mix of wet and dry cat food in three crystal dishes, his cats sated. They rubbed and purred against his legs, pleased. The fuzzy trio then attacked the food, obnoxious meowing at an end.

“Your welcome.” Ivan grunted in Russian, taking the few steps to his couch. He crashed on the plush furniture, blindly grabbing for a remote. Turning on Netflix, he browsed the documentary section. There was already entries related to the new USA president, the first black man in office. It was a a bit presumptuous, given the poor bastard was only in office eight months now.

Ivan settled on watching Inception. The movie was no longer new, but still okay. Not even twenty minutes in, Ivan's smart phone vibrated. Francis was probably texting him again like a fiend.

“No.” Ivan spoke to the device. It defied him, vibrating again on the side table.

Groaning, he reached for the phone. Sliding the screen over with a thumb pad, he looked at his texts. Angelique and Francis, people he had surprisingly come to care about slightly, had drown his messages. They always reacted dramatically. A new message popped up in group chat from Francis.

'Hey. Are you dying? Angel said you were sick, and I looked up this recipe.'

Ivan rolled his eyes. 'No I'm not dying.'

Angelique was present as always. 'I don't like the new guy. He's asking questions about you.'

This was not surprising. It had been clear that Alfred flipped sides purely to date Ivan. That was three months ago in the summer. Fall was starting to creep over the tree speckled city, and the rather handsome black man was persistent. Alfred had probably asked him out over twenty times now.

Ivan said no every time, often amused. Initially he didn't trust the turned villain. After a while, it was clear Alfred was unhappy with his previous employer. He was only human, and that was somewhat endearing.

Why was he saying no? Alfred was now locked in this time with the destruction of his dark amulet. He clearly was incapable of schemes or trickery. He constantly vomited whatever was on his mind. Ivan and his “fine moon booty” was a popular topic.

Perhaps it had nothing to do with Alfred at all. The concept that anyone badly desired to date Ivan was shocking. After his sister, Natalia, died almost five years ago, he had been tightly bound in his own grief. The loss had been crushing, to understate things. Even now, Ivan struggled to move forward with his own life and ambitions. Going to college and this scout business yanked him firmly out of his stagnant rut.

Ivan smiled faintly, for it was nice that Alfred pursued him so avidly. He texted back the group finally, after staring off in thought. 'Alfred isn't terrible.'

Francis was so very Francis. 'OMG you like him.'

'No. He's a horny annoying pet.' Ivan denied the accusation instantly, frowning despite a faint blush.

'Ew. OMG. He won't leave me alone. He keeps asking if you're super sick.' Angelique texted, following it with a trail of emojis.

'Gross. I'll send him over.' Francis texted.

'No don't!' Ivan replied, to little effect. A heart shaped hole in reality formed in Ivan's sad kitchenette space. Alfred was on the other side, clearly in Angelique's mansion kitchen. Francis and Angelique had green facials and house coats on, pushing the eternal pest through.

“But he's sick, maybe he's contagious. I don't know if I should go.” Alfred wheedled, shoved into the bachelor apartment.

“Don't die!” Francis chirped, closing the portal. Alfred stood sheepishly, smiling like a fool. He couldn't really speak, giving a shy wave.

“This is where regular people say hello.” Ivan sighed, forever blaise.

“You, um, look really good today.” The young adult stammered.

Ivan had forgotten partial nudity made Alfred's brain fall out. From the moon culture Alfred had been raised in, modesty was king. The moon had terrible radiation levels even after thousand of years of modification in the future. Full body coverings was initially mandatory, and culturally preferred in lunar wilderness.

The mundane result was puritan reactions to skimpy dress. So much as a bare leg had Alfred hypnotized and stupid. Ivan lounging in boxers and slippers would probably make the time stranded Alfred ruin himself.

Lazily tossing the couch blanket on instantly restored Alfred's cognizant abilities. “I was worried you had a plague or something.”

“I'm not dying.” Ivan repeated dryly.

Alfred squinted at Ivan's face. “You don't seem sick at all.”

A wry smile was the initial response. “I'm not.”

The child like naivety was humorous sometimes from such a major villain turned good. “So... You've been skipping combat practice because you don't want to go.”

“Master detective.” Ivan sighed, petting Boris as the cat prompt sat on him. The inky black feline insisted on being above everyone.

Alfred paused, confused. Right, he was moon person from thousands of years in the future. Almost all cultural references were lost on him. Ivan rolled his eyes but did the kind thing. “People that solve crimes.”

“Oh! I'm hardly an enforcer. I'd rather be an arbitrator, because its mostly shoving stuff in a crystal chamber and... uh, you know moon stuff that hasn't happened yet.” Alfred tried to play off his own rambling social tangent, with a nervous hand gesture and lean on the wall. “This is your place huh?”

“It is.” Ivan hummed. The other two cats sat on top of the couch now, judging Alfred like cats do. It had taken the black man a solid month to stop flinching around domestic cats. Apparently all cats and wolves were like Artemis in the future, with a dazzling array of luck and time space powers.

“So... Why are you avoiding combat practice?” Alfred was a sharp one alright.

Ivan looked at the TV, eyes unseeing. He decided to finally lower the volume on his movie. “Why are we doing what we're doing?”

Alfred was chipper, allowing himself to sit in a plastic lawn chair. “Oh you know, fighting whoever to preserve the future, regardless of sides, blah blah. It's what you do.” He then grabbed a throw pillow and appreciated the bead work.

“That's not good enough for me.”

This response made Alfred look up in surprise. “I don't get it. You of all the scouts... You're Sailor Moon. You're the key piece to the moon Republic, you're potentially the ancestor to all this.”

Ivan snorted a laugh. He wasn't going to be an ancestor to anything. He didn't even know himself enough to know if he wanted sex, let alone how to perform the act. There was rough ideas of how the process worked, but theory did not equal experience. “The only thing I'm relevant to is too many cats.”

Alfred scrunched his face in thought. “I don't... Why don't you want to do this anymore?”

“I don't know! Maybe the eugenics wars, the moon colony infighting, or that nanovirus plague that's way closer than I'm comfortable with... The future sucks Al. It sucks hard.” Ivan retorted, getting slightly upset.

“It gets better Ivan. It's not all crap.” Alfred reasoned, not getting the big picture.

Ivan sat up, gesturing with his hands. “Just pretend we do nothing. We decide, fuck it, we're going to become mail delivery guys or something. All the sailor scouts and dark knights decide to deliver mail in 2013 instead of fulfilling whatever prophecy in 5170.”

The blanket fell off Ivan's torso, Alfred's expression going a little slack. His brown eyed gaze was undeniably lustful. “Yeah...”

“For the love of...” Ivan stomped off to his cramped room, pulling on striped track pants and a work out shirt. He returned, along with Alfred's few brain cells.

“We all deliver mail or whatever instead of killing each other. What then?” Alfred prompted, proving he could focus.

“Think about it. Use all three brain cells in there and really think about it.” Ivan reasoned, dropping back on the couch with a can of iced tea. Alina pawed at the beverage from the top of the couch, but Ivan moved the can away.

One could actually see the thought process going on. Alfred's chocolate expression was confusion, bewilderment, then finally realization. His mouth formed an 'O' shape of surprise. “That's... You're a mad genius!”

“You see it, you get it.” Ivan prompted, his can of iced tea opening with a hiss of compressed gas. He took a swig as Alfred paced the tiny bachelor apartment.

“We do... nothing... and the future completely changes! Well, changes again anyway. Queen Diamond uh, moved things around in 2311. I can't remember what, but something.”

Ivan hummed. “After what she did to you in 1972, it's only fair.”

This made Alfred freeze, then twist to face Ivan. “What are you talking about?”

Ivan became nervous. “You... you don't remember?”

“I'm from 5170. I was born in 5150. Why would I know anything about 1972? The queen never sent me there. The only times I've been sent to are erased from the timeline, and like maybe 117 CE. You know, and now I guess. Now doesn't count because it sucks.”

Ivan furrowed his brows in question. Alfred shrugged. “Visiting Rome in it's prime was pretty cool.”

It was alarming to hear historians of the future flung themselves all over the past without regard for it's denizens. Ivan side stepped this ethical can of worms, trying to stay on target. “Artemis... had me interrogate you in this thing called a dream chamber. I didn't know at the time, and the whole thing makes me really uncomfortable.”

“ **What!?”** ” Alfred snapped, instantly angry. “That fuzzy bitch is going to get it.”

“I'm sorry.” Ivan muttered, ashamed.

“No, no, no. You didn't... Listen.” Alfred cautiously approached, having been hit with a certain moon scythe for privacy invasion. “You're like so hot. You're a hot guy that like, was dragged into all this shit. You in shorts is just –”

“Get to the point.” Ivan warned coldly.

Alfred bit his lip, flustered. “Well. They played us. The cats, Queen Diamond, even the moon republic. They sent you in my head for information against both our will and that's bullshit.”

“You think so?” Ivan looked up shyly. “I was in your head. I'm kinda a monster.”

“You did weird moon stuff and now I've got an awesome wand thing. I mean. When you were in there did you see anything you liked or...” At this, Alfred winked.

Ivan groaned and leaned back. “Why are you so horny? What is your problem?”

Alfred huffed, insulted. “I don't see what's wrong with wanting a little fun. It's not like you're straight.”

At this accusation, Ivan stammered. “I d-don't see how you can just say these things about people. You could be wrong or something.” This very topic unnerved him. Ivan had never properly dated girls in Russia once prior to transferring here for college. It felt wrong, like dealing with another creature type.

Alfred crossed his arms, studying Ivan seriously. Ivan felt vulnerable under that brown gaze, and he wasn't sure how to react. Thankfully, Alfred looked away in thought. Finally he spoke. “One date with me.”

“No.” Ivan rejected him instantly in amusement, used to this relentless tactic.

“I'm not... Okay, one date with me so I can rock your world. If, by some impossible chance, the date is not amazing... I'll stop asking you out. I'll drop it.” At this, Alfred looked to him, pensive.

Ivan's mouth had already formed the word 'no', but he paused. He hesitated, more and more as Alfred smiled in hope. Blushing, Ivan hid his face in his hands. “I'm... I'm not saying yes. But...”

“But...” Alfred breathed, over eager.

Ivan glared. “Don't do that. I'll go on _one_ date with you if we can fix all the future stuff. Get the others on board with this plan while not telling Artemis. I have a strong feeling we should not piss off that cat.”

“Yes! Oh you won't regret a thing!” Alfred crooned, spooking all the cats off the couch. They scattered to the bedroom at the sudden sounds and motions.

“I already do.” This new secret mission was going to be a tiring one for Ivan. Only time would tell if his quiet defiance would be successful.


	6. Mercury in Retrograde

Angelique watched as the trio of idiots trained in crystal fields of future come. She savoured the terraformed moonscape, knowing it might be the last visit. Of course she was on board with boycotting future space wars. At the accusation of Artemis manipulating them, the rich blonde was doubtful. The cat gave her magic and a new lease on life. At the rejection of fighting other people's battles, Angelique's steely wit had to bend.

The deaths of many scouts in her career had been humbling, and a way out was welcome. Still Angelique was doubtful of success. Artemis was a powerful being to be crossed. He could travel space and time a few times a day. Any other denizens originally from this bleak future would be just as stubborn. Could the scouts honestly refuse to fight anymore, cancelling out the future?

Watching these idiots more often, she wasn't sure. Ivan yelled moon spirit nonsense and swung his gangling scythe around. It had a pool noodle taped to it so no one's ankles were harvested. Alfred shouted sun bravery this and that in his retro sparkly sailor's clothes, setting fire to grass. Francis sang Venus love whatever, dropping rocks all over the place.

They really were a ridiculous lot of star warriors, weren't they? Still, there was six of them once. The younger sailor moon, Mars, and Jupiter. Angelique really missed them. They never had a proper funeral or anything. Boycotting the future was a better path, so Angelique was the last to agree. She only had to keep her trap shut.

Artemis in full prismatic white tiger form sat beside her. “Why are you not with the others.”

“I miss sailor Jupiter.” Angelique replied honestly, looking to her leader for traces of guilt. Did the tiger bother to remember Anya's name? The lightning wielding amazon of a lover had been a crushing loss for Angelique. There was still pictures of Anya in Mercury's nightstand.

It was hard to discern much of anything from a talking moon tiger. At most, there was an angry scowl. “Her sacrifice will be avenged.”

Angelique would have once taken comfort in this, but not today. _Not even a name spoken_. She had heard this insipid line one too many times. When was she next on the chopping block for this vengeance? The powers over metal chains and mental links was grand, but almost not worth dying. “Good.” She lied smoothly. Mercury was more jaded than most as the longest serving scout that wasn't dead.

The boys and Francis shouted from the now trampled field. “Hey! Come play!” Francis called out, knocking Ivan on his clumsy ass with a tiny foot sized portal.

“Sun bravery power! Hammer of justice!” Alfred screeched comically nearby, swinging around his flaming sledgehammer of a weapon like an idiot.

Angelique chuckled at the sight, standing. Transforming into her gala worthy stewardess outfit, she sauntered down the hill to join them. Gods willing they wouldn't be destroyed by this deviation from the cycles of war.


	7. Total Eclipse Of The Heart

“This plan is crazy. Why aren't we killing the bugs?” Francis whined quietly, the four scouts crouching in bushes. 

“I'm telling you, this is going to work.” Alfred whispered harshly. “The bugs are always sent first because reasons.”

“Reasons. Just reasons.” Angelique sighed.

Ivan shushed the group, peering over the top of their terrible cover. They were lucky that the necromatic blade monsters were so numb to sound. The dragging crawling beasts approached the trap in the grassy clearing. It was nothing really, a sailor costume from a Halloween store covered in pig blood. The basal foes didn't know much beyond killing to achieve their goal. They were machines of simple purpose.

Everyone watched as the creatures poked the bloody garment. There was a long pause, then a rippling shrug of a gesture.

“They are retarded.” Francis whispered.

“It's pile of bones and cutlery held together with necromancy. They don't have to be good.” Alfred retorted. The group watched on, silent. The largest monster's eyes flashed red twice, then dimmed. All five necromatic monsters stilled, like turned off appliances.

“Okay do we kill them now?” Angelique persisted, standing up.

“No.” Alfred repeated himself arms crossed. “Wait like six minutes. There's a time delay for this stuff.”

True to his word, the trap worked. It was insultingly easy how well this went. Roughly eight minutes later, a swirling black time portal expanded from the size of a droplet. Now man sized, the ragged hole absorbed faint street light as it existed. The most common of conversation poured out as two necromancers appeared, clad in typical black robes.

“Clyde, we can't just stroll around in 2013 without the Queen's permission.”

“Oh _come on_. I know you did taco Tuesday with the other guys. Besides, the robots are broken down. There's no way they killed a scout.”

There was an exasperated sigh from the first minion. “It was pizza, not Tacos. I have class. This looks like a trap, but a really shitty one.”

“What do you mean, its clearly scraps of a dead magical girl right there.”

“Where's the body then, genius?”

“The robots, uh, ate it?”

This witty banter was cut short by a quick recant of magic, golden heart chains bursting from the bushes and dragging them over crisp dead grass. Alfred emerged, two lengths of duct tape ready in his hands. “You treasonous monster!” One of the goons hissed.

“Shut it, wind bag.” Alfred retorted, uncaring. He slapped the tape over both men's mouths. The group barely had time to clear the area before another victim strolled in. This one had a red robe with some sort of managerial badge.

“Okay, I know safety protocol is getting lax around here. This is crazy though. You can't leave open portals to random places. This is how we lose casual Fridays!”

“ **Mercury friendship power! Links of friendship!** ” More chains flew forth.

Twelve staff members of the dark citadel were captured before the portal naturally timed out. Literally a dozen people, including a janitor and a confused moon wolf, were now bound with duct tape and ropes in a growing pile. They glared at silently at Alfred, their accusations of treason clear despite silence.

“Well. What do we do now?” Francis asked, pausing to check a very pink smart phone. He laughed at a joke on his social media feed.

“Focus.” Angelique sighed, lightly swatting her cousin. “I'm like, exhausted.”

“This is a lot of goons. I'm pretty sure we can't stack them in my apartment.” Ivan commented softly.

The taped up moon wolf growled and wriggled defiantly on the heap. The Slav sailor scout gave it a decent whack on the head. “Stop that, puppy.” The mystical animal squinted in rebellion, but stilled. Even with crazy time powers, no one was functional while their legs and jaws were taped together.

“Ransom to lure out the queen. Duh.” Alfred cheered, pleased with himself. He looked over the heap in malicious glee. “This war is coming to an end whether Queen diamond likes it or not.” The other scouts nodded in cold agreement.

The killing had to end.

00000

The fabled battle field was a local park at midnight. Any sparing civilians were wise to flee, carrying out dark shrouded activities elsewhere. A piece of paper with “We have your employees” scribbled on it was propped up by a few rocks.

Artemis paced the green grass in his small pet form. He was growing suspicious of his scouts in their growing silence. Still, they gave him no reason to doubt loyalty. They all claimed to be in loss and grieving from both sides. Not possessing the same emotional ranges, the cat had to take this excuse at face value.

Ever since Ivan had joined the group, everything had felt... off. Still, he had only been in the loop for maybe half a year. The fellow needed to adjust more, probably. The cat glanced to his noisy brood, watching them fetter in their sporty winter edition outfits. They might be living in Nevada, but the air still had a nip to it.

“Do you think she'll come?” Angelique prompted, doubtful.

Sailor Sun was blazing confidence with a Hollywood smile. “Diamond will show up. Not counting guards, this is half her citadel staff. Johann over there is the only guy that cleans the bathrooms, I mean... If that doesn't lure out the crown jewel, nothing will.”

Artemis said nothing, tail swishing in annoyance. Sailor Sun was a weapon worthy of legend supposedly. The chocolate skinned male's “Sun Bravery Power” could cinder earth with flames. This was not accounting for its amplification side effects. Combine Sailor Sun's ability with another scout and the secondary power was doubled.

Artemis had certainly tried to get more combinations running, but the idiot was unwilling. “Fire is fine. I'm gonna cook them like a grilled cheese.” Alfred would always deflect the orders coolly. Still, he was obviously practicing with Sailor Moon on week days. What were they up to? Was there dissent brewing in the ranks?

Artemis didn't know, but his sense of control was ever skewed. It was enough knock cups off counters at cafes, the most favorite past time of the moon cat.

Queen diamond was not known for being late. A white burning portal formed, glittering like a million diamond in moonlight. With fanfare worthy of orchestra music, the Queen of Umbra had arrived. His fabulous drag queen glamour was long dragging dress train and sleeves in white silk. A diamond patterned corset sparkled, paired with matching black thigh high boots. Dripping in black stone jewellery, the red eyes royal chuckled.

His very voice was drama, booming with sonic magic. “My dear hellfire. You really don't listen do you?” Goons poured out of the showy portal, clad in black and white metals. The spade royal crest was upfront and present on every neon lit tabard, dotting the night fantastically.

The scouts were absolutely outnumbered. Ivan seemed unflinchingly confident along side Alfred, readying his scythe. Francis was beginning to panic, tugging on Alfred's sleeve. “We should portal out, like now. They are going to murder us super bad.”

“Girls! Attack!” Artemis roared, shifting into his true tiger form. His stripes glowed with prismatic time and strength as he pounced into combat, easily over ten feet long.

“Stick to the plan!” Alfred yelled over the cat, in a readied casting pose. The other scouts copied his form, assured.

“No one can run from the awesome queen of Diamonds! Dark force activate! Form of the awesome dragon!” The glamorous queen burned hot white with his own magic. Dress train became a long bladed tail. Trailing sleeves became wings, while glossy manicures morphed into massive claws.

The monochromatic army cheered as they charged into battle a hundred strong. Above them soared their dragon queen, clad in diamond scales and black leathery wings. It's mighty sonic roar rumbled the ground as it flew high and swooped down. The attacking forces were closing in.

Artemis had already collided with the walls of lunar flesh, mowing down the mundane royal guards. His nearly telepathic roar glitched from the rage of combat. “ **This is what you were born for scouts! Defeat the enemies of the Moon Republic!** ”

Alfred smirked, dim to the rolling dun of combat. “No. We won't.” The dragon ripped closer, letting loose a blast of red tinted sonic death. Still, the scouts did not waver. Were they begging for death? The truth then revealed, horrifying the big cat leader.

All the scouts sang out at once in a glitter of rainbow hued choreography. “Solar system unity! Total rainbow glittering planet conjunction!”

Artemis scrambled over the corpses of Umbra guards in a panic. “ **STOP! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE POWER OF THAT SPELL!** ”

Queen diamond was just as distressed, the dragon's orders clear and ear shattering. “ **Stop that magic! STOP IT AT ANY COST!** ”

The death knell of magic sounded out across the field, knocking the army and Artemis on their respective asses as it thrummed. Rainbow light washed outward in destruction, ripping up grass and dirt in concentric rings.

“Mercurial Eclipse! Erase the links of friendship!” Angelique sang.

“Venusian Eclipse! Erase the gates of love!” Francis followed in flourish. The glitter laced wind was now so strong that Queen Diamond struggled to fly closer.

“Lunar Eclipse! Erase the memory of spirit!” Ivy yelled, his voice deeper and less performance inclined.

Alfred held his solar sledgehammer high, expression fierce with red flames. “Solar Eclipse! Erase the ego of bravery!”

With this last utterance, the park was enveloped in hot white light. The last sensation Alfred felt was a soft hand grab from Ivan in the blindness. The gentle trace of a kiss, one he had wanted for months, was felt on his cheek. In the screaming whiteness of this split second, Alfred's soul swooned. _Ivan was thanking him silently._

The entire park exploded into oblivion.


	8. End of Empires

Matthew watched as the far horizon fractured and dissolved. The neon star studded skies fractured and blacked out. The dark stone citadel was falling apart, bouncing off the protective bubble of green force. The super soldier wrenched from a variant of future hell was spared. Only by Toris's charity, was the wheaten blonde still alive.

Outside the moon wolf's time proof bubble, reality was already realigning to suit mortal consequences. Matthew pressed against hard green light barrier, eyes watery. “I... I don't understand, Toris.”

“Evidently, Queen diamond has died.” The wolf explained flatly. “Without propping up her presence throughout time, this alternate reality is collapsing.”

“She... She can't die. She's my queen.” Matthew sniffled, wiping his tears on a sweater sleeve.

“My powers are fading, we need to leave now.”

Matthew looked ready to fall apart, sucking in a breath. “I want to go to 2014. I'll find Queen Diamond. I'll win her back. She's not dead.”

The wolf opened his maw to argue, then closed it resolutely. Humans were absolutely unreasonable in grief. With a shake of his tawny fur, he decided it was time to leave. “Fine. I'm not responsible for any paradoxes you cause.”

Just as the anti-time barrier crumbled into darkness, the man and wolf slipped into the past. With a final ripple of being, the landscape was reformed. The Umbra Kingdom was no more, the moon now a barren landscape of gray silt.


	9. New Lunar Cycle

Starting over was hard. It was hard to accept losing seven months of memory, save for scattered shards of images. This was the predicament that Ivan woke up to. When he first drifted to consciousness in that white hospital room, his world was broken time and grasps at nothing.

It took months to get over the burns, and longer still to tamp down those hideous hospital bills. God bless America in her infinite capitalist wisdom. Ivan never fully managed to shed the crazies though. By all means, his accidental following was earned.

How often was a person discovered unharmed in the burning ruins of a park? Rarer still, how often did over one hundred people end up in the same blown up area? How often did all the victims have memory loss, clad in weird cosplay outfits? After a month of medical testing, questioning, and bed rest, Ivan was glad to embrace normalcy.

He lost most of his progress on his college courses. After flashing all the medical proof and doctor's testimonials, Ivan was allowed to transfer his few credits elsewhere without extra fees. Nevada's desert beauty and tourism no longer held the charm it once had. Flashes of nonsensical memory and genuine pain would attack his psyche. It grew difficult to walk to college in the mornings, his very apartment triggering him.

A fresh start was best. Illinois would be better than Reno, or at least less cursed. Figure in all the unearthly light sightings of the summer, the park exploding, and over one hundred transients with no memory or passports “coming from the sky”... Alien conspiracy believers stalked Ivan constantly.

Illinois had to offer more. It just had to. The town of Champaign was tiny compared to Reno. It was an old smattering of stone buildings from industrial glory days, some regions lifted upwards by university funding and gentrification. Ivan's new studio apartment was reasonable, in the more depressed areas of downtown. The university was visible from wide windows, less than ten minutes walk.

Along with a new locale, Ivan had switched courses too. Nursing seemed like an impossibility now in his chronic condition. The park event had changed him irreversibly, right down to his sight. Some days he could feel his future patient's suffering, empathy cranked to maximum. A nursing job would destroy him from exhaustion alone. Animals were more straightforward clients. Feeling more secure about his sanity on this path, The giant of a Slav moved forward. This didn't solve his other problems, but it did lessen them.

Ivan discovered hours after the park explosion that he could see auras. People's energy was much more complex and bright. Dogs were literally one color at a time and rather dim. The choice was obvious to switch majors, dodging migraines. Wisely, Ivan said nothing of this new found power. He certainly couldn't do such bizarre feats before the time period of memory loss.

Exploring his new home turf, Ivan slipped into a local artsy cafe. It was evening and his endless need for tea was active. He had studying to do, notes to rewrite, and blessed caffeine to destroy. Hauling along his lap top for the trip, Ivan barely registered the drinks menu. “Large Americano” He ordered blindly, rubbing sleep out of an eye. The ash blonde was certain he looked like shit after his latest study binge.

The barista behind the wooden counter grunted, setting to work. As Ivan waited, he blinked and looked about. The friendly space was mostly empty. Only a few ragged commuters and students stood in line behind him for a fix. Slapping change on the counter, Ivan began to nurse his academic life blood. This daily ritual was done in a cozy corner, an ideal spot for people watching.

Ivan was fine as he energized from drink and atmosphere. He was okay and he tackled the heavy concepts for his veterinary course. He was functional until he was not. The first thing that pulled his senses out of sync was an aura. It was red hot like the sun, bright and all encompassing. The bio-electric power was tangible before it's creator was visible.

Ivan sucked in a breath, feeling bizarrely familiar with this warm radiance. The epicenter of it all was an unassuming black man the same age as Ivan. Fiery brown eyes settled on Ivan like smouldering coals, framed by smart glasses. Shit, the jeans clad cutie was looking at him!

Shit, Ivan thought this guy was cute! He suspected he was gay for years, but none of his fancies had him reeling to this severity.

The connection was apparently mutual from the door to the back of the shop. The mystery man of black curls dropped his resume, flustered and just as useless. No one seemed to care, thankfully. After a brief chat with the barista and dropping off papers, the mystery man strolled towards Ivan.

The ash blonde panicked internally immediately, unsure of what to say. What did normal people do in these situations?

“I came looking for a job, but I found a handsome hunk instead.” The stranger flirted brazenly, cocking finger guns at Ivan.

“What?” Ivan sputtered, taken off guard.

“Alfred Jones. Can I sit with you?”

Ivan nodded dumbly. He was already doomed and he knew it.


	10. Love Machine

Who was Alfred Freedom Jones? It was a burning question that the young man couldn't answer. He was an American citizen with papers and everything. The legitimacy of Alfred existing was never in question, with pictures and physical evidence. The problem was that he went missing in 1972, at the fountain of a popular mall.

Alfred was missing so long the cops assumed he was dead. Life moved on, the world continued to rotate... Until a twenty two year old Alfred was dropped into a field with only scant memories from 1972 in Nebraska. The prominently afro topped man had no idea he was in 2014, or how he got there.

After five months of FBI scrutiny and interrogations, Alfred was finally deemed not a threat. The residual alien theorists and mad men of Reno were nothing compared to the heat of the entire USA government.

Alfred had the profound sense that he was a healthy American male from Nebraska. He loved baseball and toffee. His father was a asshole of a human being that repaired shoes, long dead from time. Alfred knew his own name and an old phone number that was no longer in service. The enigmatic mess that was his life was blank from there.

What happened to him? Where and when did he go? Alfred didn't know. He didn't give a single fuck about it either. He was done with the man. He was done answering bullshit questions he didn't have answers to.

Alfred freedom Jones was finally a free man, and he lived by the winds of change. He lived a spry loose life for someone that was legally fifty six years old. He didn't really understand computers, smartphones, or modern cars. That was fine.

Digging up a mostly functional typewriter from a pawn shop, Alfred typed up a resume of lies. He slowly gained real experience as a decent barista, totally addicted to coffee. He lived by intuition and love. He fucked his way to Illinois, flocking from one bed to another. This freedom was wonderful, intoxicating even.

It was still empty pursuits of nothing. Alfred craved more stability. He want himself a big handsome man to warm the bed at night, _permanently_. Without clear reason, he found himself drawn to the town of Champaign. The scent of lilac haunted Alfred's dreams, along with dim images of a total hunk in cosplay sheer. It was an odd thought to conjure in his opinion, but horny dreams were unpredictable.

Alfred peppered the sleepy university town with hand typed resumes. The things he did for money, really. He could tell at least three locations didn't take him seriously at all. They were jealous of his epic typing skills and sweet afro. Truth be told, Alfred had his old style tamed slightly. Living on the move meant not having a bathroom counter of hair products.

This virile love machine was on a mission. He was looking for his white bear, his pale treasure. Alfred loved his men untanned and husky. Barrels of masculinity built for loving, that was what Alfred hunted fervently. Out there in this wide gay world, was a temple of a man that needed worship.

The second last cafe left in this shit hole town awaited. It was predictable shades of bland and grey with mood lighting, dotted with snooty looking townies and deprived students. It was nothing special, until...

Alfred dropped his resumes upon entry to the average business. Enigmatic violet eyes locked with his brown, a magnetic lure. His man, his dream man was there in a shady corner. Weak kneed, he took in his destiny.

This was it. Holy fuck, this was it. Come on Alfred, be impressive! Coughing nervously, Alfred gathered his resumes and straighten his shirt. He barely talked to the bitch barista his eyes on the prize most of the time. This was literally the guy he was dreaming of for a year in the flesh.

Slapping down some resume papers, Alfred's holy grail awaited. He sauntered over, with all the charisma and talent he owned. The next words he uttered would make a horny Shakespeare swoon right out of his pants. Cocking finger guns, Alfred spoke with all the elegance he owned.

“I came looking for a job, but I found a handsome hunk instead.” Alfred flirted brazenly, cocking finger guns at his moonlit hunk. God, that line was so stupid and predictable!

“What?” The man sputtered, taken off guard. He blushed from within his trendy layers, gaze rolling over Alfred briefly. So, apparently this was working.

“Alfred Jones. Can I sit with you?” Alfred gestured to the empty hair beside his prize.

The handsome male nodded, lost for words. He then closed his lap top and curled elegant fingers around a large coffee. “Do you flirt with every coffee house customer?”

“Only the good looking ones.” Alfred was pushing the cheese factor here, but everything seemed to be working. He decided to gamble some more.

“Only the good looking ones you buy food for.” The proud male countered, smirking. Alfred's prey was not helpless it seemed. Good, it made these little games more fun. Alfred no idea how hard this fight would be.

The coffee encounter only earned Alfred a name and a number. The first proper date, a nice outing at a park with fries, eked out a full name and a hand squeeze. The second date, Alfred was all engines firing after a rather saucy movie date with some secret theatre kissing action. He still ended up cold and lonely on the doorstep of his dream man. Two dates after that, Alfred brooded in the park with no further progress. A pigeon, lone to a feast of crumbs, kept the rambling black man company.

“What am I doing wrong? I usually have a guy down by now.” Alfred confided in the stray bird. It had nothing to say, pecking at the ground.

“I've been a total gentlemen.” Alfred went on, venting frustration. “I've done the whole romantic package and I still can't set foot in his dumb apartment.”

Two more pigeons showed up. They waited expectantly for crumbs. Alfred rolled chocolate brown eyes and tossed out more food. “Maybe I should ask him straight up. No more games.”

The birds looked at him between bread crumbs. The cavalier young man stood with purpose, dumping his remaining crumbs on the ground. “Yes, I'll be honest with Ivan. See where we both are in this dating crap.” The simple birds took little notice as they gobbled up the free meal. Walking away with purpose, Alfred had a new plan.

The stairwell access to Ivan's place was once more shadowed by Alfred's presence. He cleaned up on the walk over, stealing three roses from a stranger's garden. When this cash strapped as a part time waiter, a man had to be clever in love.

Clearing his throat, Alfred knocked three times. He went through the effort of researching Russian customs at the public library. Odd numbered anything was bad. Showing up with nothing was bad. By and large, dating a Slav was a high maintenance affair from the start. Alfred was determined to succeed. This wasn't any old one night stand. Ivan was his literal dream stud, worth the effort.

A ragged looking Ivan opened the door, clearly not alert. Such a sleep deprived student he was. On the verge of barking out a rough greeting, the handsome giant of a bear paused. Shyly, he ran a hand through sleep mussed hair. “Alfred... This is a surprise, I um, have class in two hours.”

“Can we talk a few minutes?” Alfred offered simply, flowers in hand.

Ivan muttered something sneaky in Russian, cheeks rosy as he accepted the red blooms. “I guess you can enter.”

Alfred fist pumped in victory, letting himself in. Ivan's apartment was a sparse studio set up, bedroom and kitchen in one long space. A bathroom was off to the side, but Alfred didn't have time to steal a glimpse. By a long shot, this was much better than Alfred's rented bedroom with no window.

“Are you not cold? It will snow soon.” Ivan expressed concern, still in fleecy pyjamas himself.

“I don't get cold. This is a swanky place, so many windows!” Alfred blurted out his thoughts like usual, uncaring of his sporty shorts and running shoes. He preferred fitted clothes, showcasing his strengths. Buns of steel was one asset. He didn't suffer hours of cardio for nothing on Wednesdays and Sundays.

“Focus. What is the problem?” Ivan commanded softly after locking the door, dropping in a padded chair. He sipped tea slowly, eyes hooded with long lashes.

Alfred followed suit, sitting on a nearby plastic chair. He leaned forward in keen interest. “Have I done something wrong?”

Ivan looked up, then stared into his tea cup for answers. After a long pause, his anxiety was faintly visible as a frown. “Why would you think this?”

“Everything goes fine, we're holding hands, then after one kiss you ghost me.” Alfred was hardly subtle, his expression intense. “If I'm being too invasive or pushy or... I just want to understand what's happening here.”

Ivan's porcelain complexion dusted pink from blush, eyes unwilling to meet. Instead he sipped his tea until the cup was dry. Finally he spoke with harried fettered words. “You see, I'm not... You haven't done anything wrong. I'm... I don't date much, or ever. I'm shy, I'm not really knowledgeable about this process, or how men work down there. I'm not really... I've never...” Ivan was retreating into his pajamas like fluffy shell, interlaced fingers white in stress.

“I've never been with anyone. So, I'm improvising.” Alfred's eyes widened in shock as Ivan let out the last tiny words. There was a dead silence, muted traffic heard from the street below. Finally a dreaded question came from Alfred.

“Ivan, are you a virgin?”

“I'm not answering that.” The mighty Slav hissed, instantly offended.

“I'm not implying anything, I'm... I had no idea okay? You didn't seem like one. You look so mature and, you know.” _Blow job worthy, deliciously thick like a cake I want to eat._ Of course, Alfred did not voice the more explicit admissions. He might be horny most of the time, but he still had manners. He would climb mountains to get a good grip on that mountain of a man.

Ivan twiddled his thumbs, abashed by the attention. “I don't know.”

This was all the prompting Alfred needed. A deluge of positive comments washed outward. “You look so mature, and strong. I bet you could punch a guy out cold.”

Ivan looked away coyly, basking in flattery. “I... I can.”

Alfred smiled sweetly, kneeling before his seated host. He kissed a hand gingerly, the object of his affections now royalty. “Please allow me to rock your world. I promise it won't hurt. It'll feel so good. I'll spoil you silly, I'll make you feel like a king.”

Blushing, Ivan looked down on his new subject with hooded gazes of affection. “You won't tell anyone I'm... I'm not experienced?”

“I won't tell a soul. I'll be a total gentleman.” Alfred swore an oath, hand in the air. “Swear to um. You know. That dude in a chair. They guy that lives in the clouds. Um.”

“Professor Xavier from X men was in a wheel chair.” Ivan offered, puzzled.

“No I... I got this. I have like cultural memory loss all the time. Um. I swear to um... ugh, christ this is hard.” Alfred paced the room, distracted from his romantic proposal. “Christ... Baby Jesus, yes! I swear to God that I'll rock your world.”

Ivan cocked his head, curious. “Memory loss?”

Alfred shrugged casually. “Oh you know. Losing years of memory after an explosion in a park. Super boring. That old chestnut. But I'm more of a now guy you know? I live in the present.”

“What?” Ivan's voice was shrill and peaked, at this. He stood, urgent to gain more knowledge. “Are you talking about the thing in Reno? The Chesapeake incident?”

The chocolate coloured American grinned, aware he held all the cards. “Yeah. What do you know about it?”

“I was there, I don't remember what happened. I woke up in the hospital. It was crazy, but the doctors didn't want me to meet any other people from the incident while we were under study... You have to tell me what happened, if you remember –”

Ivan was shushed by a finger, pressed against his lips. Alfred looked slightly upward, shorter than the centre of his romantic hunt. “All thrilling conversations we can have on our next date.”

Flustered, the ash blonde followed him to the door. “What hospital did you go to? Maybe we were part of the same memory study.”

“I'll pick you up after classes. Prepare to be romanced!” Alfred promised with a flirtatious wink, half out the door.

“But we could talk about it now. Can't we talk about it now?” Ivan called down the stairwell access.

“See you later cutie!” Alfred yelled back, infuriatingly playful. He then proceeded to leave around a bricked building corner. The last sight was of a frustrated Ivan, wind ruffling his fluffy pyjamas.


	11. Winging It

Gilbert Beilschmidt. It was a name he was given after the park explosion, although the last name didn't ring true. The first name mostly fit. It wasn't important enough sounding. Gilbert couldn't think of anything more awesome at the time, so he settled.

In the beginning he had nothing. He was a man with no family, or worldly possessions. The loneliness was crushing. The slim albino needed attention and all the stuff as soon as possible. He needed a throne chair and fabric and silks... He woke up from something he couldn't remember, craving _stuff_.

his DNA was a match for a little boy that went missing 30 years ago... but Gilbert recalled nothing about this time. This was the only clue to who he might be, even if the tests took two months to legally confirm anything. The Beilschmidts were a nice enough family. They were still strangers when they first peeked in the stark hospital room.

Ten months on, Gilbert was trying to reconnect. It was hard to grow with the world when nothing seemed to make sense. He understood smartphones, but he had to be taught what can openers were. He understood German flawlessly, but had no concept what Germany was. He though countries were colonies for weeks. He thought cats and dogs could talk for several days. The concept of a car not driving itself seemed blasphemous. Gilbert tried. He tried so hard.

His found family tolerated this impeded stumble of growth. Gilbert's brother, Ludwig, was a built blonde rock of support. Claude, a cousin born in Luxembourg, had less patience. The grandfather, Wolfgang, was a cold stoic man. Regardless, the relic of a veteran insisted Gilbert was of their kin.

“He has my father's cheek bones. He can be nothing else but my daughter's child.” Wolfgang would insist stubbornly. Grandfather was actually the most profound pillar of this new life. Opa Wolfgang provided limits, he taught basic concepts. He patiently waited while Gilbert struggled with the experiment called cooking. Ludwig gave a few lessons when he wasn't at his job. Claude mostly observed from afar, unconvinced Gilbert was that baby stolen away thirty years ago.

Now a year since being discovered, Gilbert had a maverick grip on life. Wolfgang's financial generosity had come to an end. With all the grace of a star, Gilbert entered Ludwig's jewellery and pawn shop. 'Queen of Diamonds' was a family business supposedly started when Wolfgang's father left the political boiling pot of Germany in 1931. Wolfgang claimed a dragon made of diamonds appeared before his father, commanding him to go to America and start a business.

 _A dragon made of diamonds._ How absolutely ridiculous! With just as much ego as a dragon, Gilbert announced his presence. “Oh bruder, I am here for a job!”

Lars, an employee of Ludwig's, was behind polished glass and metal counters. The man was a tall rake of resting bitch face mastery. He wore a snooty suit and tie, wearing cloth gloves as he polished a gold watch to perfection. The dry salesman only spared a green eyed glance.

“Mr. Beilschmidt, your idiot brother is here.” The employee called out, resuming his task.

Gilbert frowned at the jab. He had only walked into the glass doors a few times. It wasn't his fault they didn't open automatically. “I'm super awesome, for your information. I'm cooler than this entire building.”

“I'll put my wine next to you so you can chill it.” Lars dismissed coldly. Gilbert was taken back, genuinely insulted. Ludwig came out, looking harried and stressed. That was usually his condition.

“Gilbert... What are you doing here?” The greeting was skeptical, but far less cutting.

“Opa told me I need to start paying rent. I thought, what place deserves my grace the most?” At this Gilbert gestured to his own person. He was black nail polish, eyeliner, and pure monochromatic punk attitude. “Obviously, this dump. I'm going to be super helpful. I can make us a commercial. We will make piles of cash! It is a perfect plan!”

Ludwig cleared his throat, grimacing with a wrinkle of a frown. “You don't know anything about the family business. Have you asked Claude if he's okay with any of this?”

“No need. He is a giant boring math nerd. All we need is some energy around here! Some colour! A big Hollywood commercial with me, covered in diamonds. All the diamonds!” As Gilbert slipped into brief monologue, he gestured to the bounty of glittery goods around him. Lars rolled his eyes.

Ludwig held a breath, obviously picking his words carefully. “Bruder, I am very happy you have been united with the family. I have never seen Opa so happy since our mother died. Can you be a cashier or whatever somewhere else? The family business is fine. We don't need a commercial.”

Gilbert looked at Ludwig flatly. He waved around him at the shining displays. “Oh, where is all the customers then? Where is the people needing diamonds? Our diamonds? All I see is our shinies sitting in cages, hidden from the fat fingers of the rich. The natural ecosystem of shinies is on rich people's bodies bruder!”

Lars groaned. “Can you shut up? Your voice is steel wool on my ears.”

“Never.” Gilbert retorted, shameless.

Ludwig was a rational creature, bending to the same conclusion Gilbert formed hours earlier. The store was usually empty except for weekends. “I will talk to Claude about making a commercial.”

“You understand awesome ideas Ludwig! We will be awesomely rich!” Gilbert whooped in victory. Lars winced at the volume, and it would not be the last time he did so. The 'Queen of Diamonds' jewellery shop would be getting the royal Gilbert treatment.

00000

“Finding our Queen will be impossible.” Toris argued from the passenger seat of the F-150 truck. In this era of time, his glittering fur was dull and brown with hints of grey. The hyper intelligent moon wolf appeared to be no more than a rugged dog with bicolor eyes and collar. Time alterations had smeared his original body to no longer being the size of a horse as well. It was for the best, even if the magic beast was gravely unhappy about it.

“It won't be. My illustrious queen has always been dramatic. Since we know he didn't die in Reno, his back up plan is in effect.” Matthew proclaimed as he drove dangerously down highway 72. They had just been ejected from a collapsing time line two weeks ago. After getting some upset feelings out of his system, Matthew put on his best fresh attitude. Stealing a nice outfit and a truck from a trailer park in Springfield, the duo were off to correct the time line.

“ _You_ believe the queen didn't die.” Toris corrected lowly, sniffling periodically out the half open window. Dog hair was blowing everywhere.

Matthew's grip on the steering wheel tightened, but he reeled in his emotion. It would be disastrous if his super soldier strength wrecked the large vehicle. “My beloved queen is alive, and I'm not giving up on him.”

Toris huffed in his bestial way, but said nothing directly. “You mentioned a back up plan.”

Matthew spoke, once more calm. “If the queen was trapped in an era, or killed, he couldn't completely vanish. He was still a universal constant in recent human history. My queen genetically anchored himself in the past by manipulating a few choice people. Basically every 300 years, or... maybe 400? He does reoccur before the point he was defeated at.”

“Back ups.” Toris echoed with hardly any dark sarcasm. “That's genius.”

“Exactly. Now this is the second earliest back up point he told me about. It's a German family he visited before. They carry his genetics, and they live somewhere in this state. It's the only place he can end up legally.” Matthew was so proud as he touted this convoluted plan.

“If he isn't dead.” Toris repeated, forever a pessimistic being.

“My beloved queen is not dead!” Matthew repeated, slightly distressed. “He just isn't.”

“So, he's not dead. How are you going to greet him?” The moon wolf prompted, cocking his canine expression.

“Oh the usual, go on bent knee like he wants, kiss a hand...” Matthew paused his casual ramble, realizing something awful as he drove past more traffic signs. “He might not remember who I am. The whole timeline was scrambled.”

Toris bit at the air a bit, enjoying the drive. He clearly didn't like any of this plan, but had no intention of pausing it. “That could be a problem.”

Matthew gathered his wits. The moon wolf was striking in his forethought and intelligence. Matthew took a little longer to come around to the same conclusions. “I'll... I'll figure something out when we get there. I'll win over my queen's heart if I have to.”

Toris said nothing. He didn't need to, for Matthew's flimsy plan held enough uncertainty.


	12. Twin Peaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PORN AHEAD. You were warned.

Alfred was a perfect gentleman. He was patience and grace as he went out on the date of all dates. The entire affair was low key and affordable at local places. In Alfred's sparsely employed existence, this was all he could manage. The stress free day out ended at a picturesque roof top, complete with egg salad sandwiches and folding chairs.

The usual biting winter wind was absent today as the sun set. This granted a fantastic view with a meal, both boys done up in fluffy sweater jackets. The town glittered with frost, almost golden from amber sun glow.

Rosy cheeked, Ivan cupped his hot chocolate. “Today was really nice. I'm surprised you're not broke from all this.”

Alfred smiled, sliding his folding chair closer with a few seated hops. It butted flat against Ivan's own cheap chair. Craftily sliding a gloved hand over Ivan's, woolly grips interlaced and squeezed. Alfred was very much broke, but didn't want to ruin the mood. “You're worth it.”

At this flirty admission, Ivan hummed and looked over shyly. Alfred waited for once, granting control to another. He waited until Ivan set down his drink with care, gaze lusty and rich. “Maybe we could... Maybe I could kiss you?”

Alfred nodded eagerly, permanently horny around his current conquest. “I'd love to.”

Things started out so hesitant and careful. It was a strange dance of seated awkwardness, Ivan tasting the cinnamon rolls on Alfred's tongue. The inexperience Slav could feel himself slipping farther from control. He had no idea what the hell he was doing, but his body burned and coiled in a good way. Both men sandwiched the plastic arm rests of their seats as they squeezed close.

The pleasure spiked and became pain as Alfred began massaging Ivan's groin area through tenting sweat pants. Ivan stopped kissing, gasping for more air. “S-stop!”

“Does this hurt?” Alfred asked curiously, massaging needy balls through pants and boxer fabric. It was an electric caress that make Ivan's hips involuntarily press upward.

Ivan let out a low growl, losing control. “If I get any harder, I'll be stuck with blue balls forever. I can't... We went up three storeys. Going back down will chafe.”

Alfred smiled as he slid out of his own seat. Parked on his knees, he nestled between Ivan's opening legs. The view and positions taken were unmistakably erotic. “You want some relief, handsome?” After, Alfred mouthed the now tented fabric.

Warm breath could be felt through all this fabric, along with faint pressure. Ivan whimpered, helpless and starting to sweat. “T-torturing me and... Distracting me... What if this is all a mistake. What if...” The whisper were dropped sharply as Alfred loosened sweat pant laces at the waist. Freeing Ivan's blushing cock from patterned boxers, the entire organ was lapped up into a willing hot mouth.

Ivan was useless, trapped in every suckle and wet bob. Initially fearing his dick getting bit off, the Russian's fear was instantly discarded. He forgot how to make words, moaning as his body tensed and rolled slightly in its plastic seat. The urge to thrust was strong, stronger than he had ever experienced. Ivan needed to fuck savagely, an animal. He settled for writhing and crying out in his chair, not entirely knowing the mechanics of anything.

Stumbling Russian curses poured out of Ivan's mouth as he gripped the springy black hair of Alfred's head. Alfred moaned as his face was used, Ivan burying himself almost to the base. He could feel his swollen cock pressed against the back of the throat while sucked and lathered in warmth. All the while, Alfred had his own cock out, rigid and deep pink as it was stroked rapidly. Just watching this pure physical action made Ivan's shudder and moan. If he became any more...

_Harder!_

_Faster!_

It was all too much. Ivan yelled out nonsense, coming inside Alfred's mouth. His brain scraped the heavens as he witnessed pure joy in his soul. Every little drop was milked and licked up as Alfred's own masturbation reached frantic pace. The guy was close, whimpering as he sagged and arched between Ivan's knees.

Alfred looked up, glassy from lust and desperation. His eyes almost glowed in the steeping dark of the roof top, begging for help. Ivan risked the unhygienic conditions, leaning forward to kiss Alfred. Tasting himself, what they had achieved together, Ivan did something ridiculous and random.

He slapped Alfred on the ass, hard. Alfred yelped out loud, fading to a sexual gasp. He made general begging sounds, but no true words as a man on the cusp. Encouraged, Ivan man handled and spanked Alfred's bared ass for a short time. Alfred collapsed with a strangle of sound, landing in Ivan's still exposed groin area.

Alfred panted, pleased and having released all over himself. Only one thing was a problem.

“Alfred!” Ivan urged, shaking his slack partner by the shoulder.

“Gimme a minute, my brain fell out.” Alfred mumbled, blinking heavily.

“YOU'RE ON FIRE!” Ivan yelled, scrambling back wards chair and all. He patted out rich red flames starting to smoulder on his clothes. Alfred almost fell, catching himself. He looked at himself, his hands splattered with his own seed. His cum was on fire. His body radiated high amounts of heat. Low fire licked off any exposed skin.

“What the fuck!” Alfred exclaimed, witnessing his pants as they burned off. His briefs were nothing but ashes. Ivan happened to watch intently, drinking in the sight of that now flaccid cock and balls. Alfred looked up, his eyes bright with sunlight. Brown was now orange verging on yellow rings in the dark. “Dude, your eyes are glowing purple!”

Ivan scrambled to pull his smart phone out of his pocket, putting the camera on selfie mode. His eyes faintly glowed lilac, a moon symbol alight on his forehead. “Does this happen during all sex?” Ivan demanded, terrified.

“No it does not.” Alfred whined as he stood. All his clothes had burned away in intense heat, even as the red flames simmered and dissipated. Now Alfred was entirely nude, bizarrely covered in glowing lines on his backside. Even as they faded, the geometric markings clearly resembled a large sun. “This is crazy. How am I going to get home naked?”

Both men stood in silence, Ivan tucking his cock in warm boxers and doing up his fly. Alfred seemed unaffected by the cold like normal. It took a few minutes, but their eyes and markings finally faded.

Ivan spoke, a topic now much more pressing in concern. “You had dreams of me before you met me. I had vague dreams of you before you asked me out. I think... I think the Chesapeake incident connects us. Something happened there that binds us.”

Alfred nodded in agreement. “It's time we solved this mystery... After I borrow your sweater?”

Ivan could only chuckle, mentally fuzzy from orgasm.


	13. Don't Piss Off Opa

Fitness was an important start to every day. Gilbert got into the habit when he woke early with Opa Wolfgang, edging out the sun for timing. The energetic grandfather walked through both parks twice a day with his army of dogs. A Leonberger, golden retriever, dachshund, and dalmatian belonged to the dog loving family collectively.

This frosty winter morning, Opa smoked as the dogs roamed free at the park. The snow frosted grass crunched beneath his practical black boots, long dead. Gilbert chattered his ear off, like a Gilbert tended to do.

Between throws of two ragged tennis balls, the grandson bled enthusiasm. His flashy Youtube commercial had racked sales up by a notable eight percent. Encouraged, the albino formed bigger plans. “Opa what about a website. A big website. Queen of Diamonds one stop shop for your shiny needs.” Gilbert gestured wide as he announced new possible dreams.

Opa took a slow drag, refusing to sit on the nearby park bench. He insisted sitting was bad for him, at the cost of his worn feet. “I don't understand how people found the commercial. It was put in the solitaire machine.”

“Internet. The internet, Opa. There's millions of people on the internet that want to buy stuff.” Gilbert repeated, somehow incredibly knowledgeable of all modern day technology. It was one of the few things that survived his extreme memory loss.

“We don't need the supernet. We need more sign twirling. I was a sign twirler for a shop in Chicago. It was my first job I ever had. Only thing computers are good for is solitaire.” Opa was as obstinate about technology as he was about standing.

Gilbert pat the dogs on the head and they returned, finally tuckered out. Both balls were collected by the grandfather as Gilbert clipped all leashes on. “A website is sign twirling on the global level. The people will be piling in the doors.”

The elder man looked over skeptically, finally relenting to the advances of science. “Ask your brother about it at breakfast.”

Gilbert fist pumped, beginning the walk home. “We will make all the money! This will be most awesome!” Despite being much older, Wolfgang had a stead calm presence. He was much better at keeping four dogs in line. Gilbert was even higher energy than the dachshund by comparison.

“Money is not the most important thing.” The stern grandfather warned, then paused in contemplation. “But it is important.”

“We can get more toys for the dogs and –” The rambling was cut off, a young man with a knife approaching the pair. His mask and dark hoodie obscured most features. Gilbert cocked his head as Opa Wolfgang tensed. Two of the dog began to bark viciously, the moment drawn tight.

“Give me all your fucking money!” the mugger screamed, hunched forward and ready for hostilities.

Gilbert had never been robbed before. He looked to his grandfather in confusion. “What is this?”

Opa was pale and shaking with stress as he pulled out his wallet. “Just give the man your money.”

“Why? It's not like he's providing a service or –” Gilbert eyes went wide as he watched the stranger stab him in the stomach. The blade glanced off glittering skin, the albino shocked he was being attacked at all. As his very first encounter with violent crime, Gilbert was not impressed. With a simmer of prickling rage, He slapped the robber hard.

The man howled in pain, his mask shredded. Face streaming blood, the mugger stumbled back. With a loud sprinkling of expletives, he ran into the misty morning. Gilbert's heart pounded so, taking time to register the exchange of violence. He looked to his hands. They glimmered with faint scales like diamonds, fingers ending in sparkling serrated claws. The blood was dull and dark in comparison.

“Opa... Opa what is happening?” Gilbert's usually confident words trembled. “I don't know what's happening.”

“We need to get back to the house.” Grandfather guided the way, urgent in his stilted elderly gait.

Due to the unholy morning hour, Gilbert was not spotted on the return trip. His bizarre crystal scaled condition deepened as he stressed in the kitchen. Ludwig and Opa tried to stay calm. Thankfully Claude was not around to torture Gilbert.

“What is it?” Ludwig asked, barely managing to reel in any reaction. He gave the sharp claws a barest touch on the flat sides.

“I told you! Some loser was not awesome and tried to rob Opa. I... I don't know. I just reacted. I bitch slapped the attacker.” Gilbert confessed. The scale pattern was strong now, half way up his arms.

“It only spreads if you get upset.” Opa warned, clucking his tongue.

“I might be upset because I'm growing disco ball skin like a freak!” Gilbert countered, his voice painfully unregulated. Everyone cringed at the volume. The secretly anxious albino was always like this when he was shaken.

“We just need to... think of positive things about this.” Ludwig was trying his best. His expression was strained and tired after yet another Gilbert disaster. Initially Ludwig had been doubtful he was related to the pale drama queen at all. How could anyone make a positive identification after thirty years and be so certain? Grandfather was so determined, that Ludwig doubted himself. Claude still wasn't coming around to the change, but he was wrapped up in the business world. Gilbert was only a distraction for him.

“How could this be positive? I have knives for hands.” Gilbert brandished his crystalline claws in empty air.

“We know you're stab proof. That is good.” Ludwig nodded after, so very sure.

“That is... true.” Gilbert sat in thought after, ruby red eyes flicking up to his family. “I can cut things without scissors. So...”

“You do not need to buy new scissors ever again.” Opa pointed out, resolutely cheap to his core. He pushed forward a cinnamon roll he just warmed up in the microwave.

Gilbert prodded the baked delight, then cautiously cut it in two clean halves. He looked up shyly, seeing his grandfather look on confidently. Gilbert smiled hesitantly, looking to his own hands with something other than fear. “Pretty useful... I guess.”

“You made a good commercial.” Ludwig piled on praise in dry, if genuine manner. It was only the only way the family communicated. Opa offered a fatherly back pat and a wrinkle of a smile to cap off this moment in time.

With a transitional glimmer, the crystalline scales faded away. Gilbert hugged his grandfather back with gusto. “I was so panicky. That was not awesome on my part.”

“You're a good boy.” Opa replied upon release, just as relieved as Ludwig. Gilbert's claws had been sharp enough to destroy his prized oak table. That would be the real disaster.

00000

In the dusk of a silvery pre-dawn, The quite elderly Wolfgang stood on the porch of his home. He had never liked sitting much, for it encouraged lazy behaviour. No one, not even the few birds of winter, dared squabble here. He lit a cigarette, lost in thoughts. In his youth he was a splendid war machine, a sniper for the German military. He was faded and weak from the harsh corrosion of time, but his senses never ceased.

He could hear the beast first. A mystic hiss of what he believed was magic. The soft padded steps on squeaky patio boards. The looming animal was a blur in his peripheral vision, still he did not look. He didn't want to show more respect than he had to his personal demon.

“Artemis.” He spoke out quietly, familiar with the reality immune tiger.

The approaching big cat huffed a breath. “You're as sharp as ever.”

“War never leaves one's senses.” Wolfgang muttered, taking another drag.

The tiger realized scaring the old man was futile. This often was the case, the elderly human a veteran. Artemis shrunk to it's flossy white pet size, now wearing the guise of a standard house cat. It leaped with infinite grace onto the patio railing, perching there. “You disobeyed me.”

Opa knew this day of judgment was coming. He had been anticipating it for months. “He is a child. He needs love and time.”

The cat had none of it, not one for human sympathy. “That _thing_ in your house is a dimensional dragon. You need to kill it. It is indirectly responsible for thousands of deaths.”

The feeble human was strong in his will, unmoved. He had known since the beginning Gilbert was not a target. He was a lost... magical human being type thing. Wolfgang had always held a place in his heart for new pet rescues, and this was the foster care of the century.“Gilbert is a boy that needs proper parenting. He is hardly the tyrant you claimed he was.”

The cat's tone was low and dangerous. “Is this direct refusal to carry out my orders?”

The grandfather took his sweet time, finishing off his smoke. He snubbed it in an empty soup can set out for such things. With all the ego of a government sanctioned murderer, Wolfgang looked to the creature that technically hired him decades earlier. His words carried prideful impact.

“Yes. Yes it is.”

The cat fluffed up in frustration, eyes glowing dangerously. “I could kill you in an instant.”

“I'm Gilbert's moral anchor. Killing me will ensure he loses his mind and ravages this town. All of Illinois would be ruins. Do you really want the FBI getting involved?” Wolfgang retorted in calculated fashion, his voice chilling.

The cat said nothing, tail flicking in annoyance.

The weak human enjoyed this bizarre scenario, brazen in his beguiling humanity. “I know you can't kill the dragon.” Adjusting his glasses, the wilful grandfather walked with flippant disregard back to his kitchen. One foot in the door, he looked over his shoulder a last time. “I expect you to be gone from my property. Lest I teach Gilbert cats are bad luck.”

With a final hiss of rage, the cat rippled and winked out of existence. It felt good to win.


	14. This Is The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lost inspiration for this story roughly three months ago, but I want to see it all finish. So, with many apologies, I present the second last chapter. Unfinished projects have always made me uncomfortable.

Matthew was a bad pet owner. There was nothing else to be said about the horrible living conditions being forced upon Toris. The noble wolf had subjected himself to the illusion of being a pet. It was the only way to easily travel this new reality they were stranded in.

Until Toris was given a few weeks of decent food and rest, his powers and appearance would stay diminished. Upon arrival in the university town of Champaign, Toris had been forced to subsist off dry dog food. At only one cup or so of it a day, starvation was inevitable. The only reason Toris hadn't abandoned Matthew yet was because the super soldier was a genuine threat to _everyone_.

Toris watched Matthew bite into a juicy fast food burger from the passenger seat of the stolen struck. He licked his chops.

“No. This is human food.” Matthew denied.

“I want the weird vegetable sticks.” Toris spoke up again, nose twitching as he sniffed the air.

“What about the dry food I bought.” Matthew shielded the rest of his meal from view.

“It's dry.” Toris ignored the open bag beside him, propped up by the truck door.

“I'm not sharing my food.” Matthew argued.

“You have to share with the pack.” Toris argued right back, shocked the super soldier was being so selfish.

Matthew said nothing. He ate the rest of his food, then glared. “We aren't a pack, a unit, or anything else. We are subjects of the queen, who will be restored.”

The silence after was freezing and authoritative. Toris panted anxiously, not knowing what to say. What could he say, when the emotion riddled person before him was lost to delusional causes. “I will do reconnaissance. For the mission.” Toris's lie faltered. His request was barely believable.

“That's a good idea.” Matthew's was focus hard to break. He didn't sense the falsehood in the least. Leaning over, he released the truck door. Shifting the dog food bag, he looked to Toris. “Don't be too long. We need to talk to the queen together when we find her.”

Toris had no response as he jumped out of the vehicle. He looked back once, then slipped into the creeping shadow of evening. Large modern containers of garbage. Live rats. Era appropriate pet cats with no cosmic powers. Toris saw it all in the living darkness of city night. He ran for miles, seeking more savoury things.

Even if the dirty brown timber wolf of a “pet” desired to eat raw cat, it would take six to fill his enormous metabolism. This was akin to chasing small animals so long the energy deficit out weighed the end meal. Toris needed a big meaty meal very soon, feeling wane after two weeks of scavenging.

The hunt was fruitless. Toris sat in fatigued depression with the dim promise of sunrise. He didn't honestly know where he was. The quadrupedal traveller was dependant on Matthew for directions since they arrived in this era. There was many large square houses around, humming with soft electric life. Fanciful gardens lavished these boxes, scented of human tampering and earthy greenery.

Suburb. That was a word the wolf had heard in his original timeline. It was an ancient term then, misconstrued for any manner of things. Was this the original concept of “suburb”? It was strange to witness living history, but Toris was curious.

While sniffing the air for civilized food, a wonderful scent gripped him. It was faint yet magical. Toris detected very peppery scrambled eggs. Hungry beyond common sense, he sprinted towards the source. One city block over, he stopped his frantic pace. There was an old man in a kitchen window, whistling as he cooked at an ungodly hour.

Toris remembered last minute that wolves couldn't speak in over five languages here. They made odd noises instead, the most primitive utterances. Withholding a shout of “HEY CAN I HAVE SOME EGGS!”, Toris paced. He could do this. He could sound like a dumb puppy.

“B-bork.” He yelled, butchering the rough dialect. Bicoloured eyes tracked the human in the window, green and brown irises sharp with hunger. The human paused, adjusting primitive glasses as he peered out.

“Bark!” Toris repeated, sounding much more realistic.

The old man vanished from view, the side door of the house opening a minute later. Toris detected old German. Technically it was newer German in this century. With the pattern recognition and lingual skills Toris had, this version wasn't hard. He decoded the words fast, nearly instantly.

“Hello puppy.” The old man seemed to say. Toris hopped and spin about, happy to engage communication. He was hungry enough to lose his mind.

A scintillating strip of bacon was shown. “Do you like meat, puppy?”

Toris was rather forward, walking onto the porch. He then copied behaviour spotted earlier. Sitting a few metres from the elderly human, he begged with both paws. He begged like a champion, eyes watery with intent. He panted, anxious this might not work.

He got the meat strip. It was gone in an instant. It was savoury warm deliciousness and Toris craved more. Without dignity, he sniffed and licked the hand that offered him salvation. By the stars, he wanted more.

“Hold on now. I'll get more.” The older male chuckled. He returned with three more meat strips. Stars bless this man. Toris's tail wagged slightly, a rather childish behaviour. Why not, he was feeling casual today.

“You like the bacon puppy? Does your owner not give you bacon?” The kindly man went on. Toris almost shook his head no, but caught himself. Dogs here were not expected to copy gestures. Gobbling down the meat, Toris licked his chops. Yummy meat, divine of the living!

“Are you going to bite me, puppy? Can I see your collar? Your owner must be so worried you've gone away.” The old man rambled on, approaching touching distance. When Toris gave no resistance, the human carded a wrinkled hand through brown grey fur.

This was pleasant enough, until the hand tested his taut necklace of torture. The old German words went on. “This collar is so tight! You must be so uncomfortable!” Toris gave a low whine of confirmation. His breathing was immediately eased as the tight loop of strapping was loosened.

“Look at that, much better!” The man confirmed, earning another tail wag.

“It is actually.” Toris commented without thinking. He then froze, realizing his stupidity. He looked up to the stranger, ears flat with worry.

The old man gaped, backed up. He tried to form words, but failed, covering his mouth with a shaky hand. Toris lowered himself slightly, frightened. He tucked his tail as a few soft words were spoken. “May I have eggs please?”

The moment couldn't be processed in time. A younger human with severe blonde hair and four dogs was tumbling into the quaint kitchen. “Opa, I couldn't find Klein's leash. Did you hang it up near...” The younger male

“Go along with it. You get eggs.” The old man warned, standing slowly after.

The four dogs burst into angry primitive warnings. This was their territory after all, it reeked of them, laced with hairs. The humans calmed their pack with a minimum of shouting. The blonde human spoke with careful words. “Opa. What are you doing.”

“I have a new dog. His name is...” The now identified grandfather looked quickly to Toris.

“Toris.” The wolf whispered, hiding his muzzle partially with a paw.

“Toris. Yes. Toris the dog. My dog. I definitely adopted this dog.” The old man insisted stubbornly, ushering the future wolf inside. All beasts present began cautious sniffing introductions. Arguing spilled out before the five canines.

“Our vet bills are insane. We don't need another dog!”

“This is a special dog! I want it!”

“Be reasonable!”

“Puppies don't need a reason!”

Steadily fed pieces of scrambled eggs, all five animals didn't care at all. The arguing persisted a minute more, then what seemed to be a grandson gave up. “Fine. Have sixty dogs. I'm not paying for all that kibble.”

“Maybe I will have sixty dogs. Sixty times the love!” The grandfather argued at lower pitch, not moving. He stood in front Toris, staunch in his driven way. The grandson, apparently a Ludwig or something like that, rolled his eyes and walked away. With a jingle of keys and a call of “Park!”, the four fuzzy sentinels of this old man's dog pack parted. Two offered parting growls of possessiveness, until their old master shushed them.

With a click of the front door lock, This “Opa” was alone with Toris.

“I suppose I should tell you my mission for –” The wolf like dog, or possibly dog like wolf, was interrupted.

“No. I don't want your mission, or your life history.” The old man was stubborn to say the least.

“I could be an enemy faction.” Toris pointed out, to no real progress.

“You are a puppy dog... that can talk. I will spoil you. We can go for walks. Don't you want a pack that loves you?”

Toris couldn't lie to save his life. His tail wagged at the possibility of being in a pack again. “My last mission is rather imperative.”

“Scrambled eggs.” The elderly male offered some breakfast. Toris lapped it out of the guy's hands, still hungry. Three weeks was a long time to not meet caloric intake.

“Who's a good boy?”

Toris hesitated. The last time the dark citadel had given a performance review, he didn't score anything noteworthy. This didn't really matter, he supposed. Collapsed timelines being what they were. “I don't know.” He answered after not hearing any other people or dogs in the house.

“You're the good boy!” The grandfather praised, scratching Toris behind the ears.

Morosely, the wolf hung his head. “I don't know what I did to be good. I might be evil due to all the people my last pack killed.”

The grandfather shook his head. “You are a good boy. I decided this.”

“What if I'm not.” The wolf asked, ears slight flat with anxiety.

“You are. I'll fry two more strips of bacon, then we'll go for walk.” The elderly pack leader was too stubborn to be defied. He was enough to make The queen of diamonds look tame with less decoration. No one could out fabulous the queen of diamonds.

It was almost a shock to learn the grandfather was sheltering the queen of diamonds. Toris had to admit the genetic linking back up plan was ingenious. This was probably the only place the queen would end up, safe and sheltered.

The wolf wondered about his fate the rest of the day. The queen of diamonds pranced about the house, completely unaware he was from another reality. Had Gilbert planned all this from the previous time line? Probably, the dragon leader had been a certified genius. The one factor he had not accounted for was Opa Wolfgang.

No one said no to Grandfather.


End file.
